Connolly’s Corner

Welcome all to 𝗖𝗼𝗻𝗻𝗼𝗹𝗹𝘆’𝘀 𝗖𝗼𝗿𝗻𝗲𝗿, a series of weekly reviews by Charles Connolly – an artist in his own right. Here, Charles delves into the greatest brand new singles brought to you by the best unsigned artists on our electrifying and eclectic set of 𝙉𝙚𝙬 𝘼𝙧𝙩𝙞𝙨𝙩 𝙎𝙥𝙤𝙩𝙡𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩 playlists.

𝙉𝙤𝙩 𝙁𝙖𝙡𝙡𝙞𝙣𝙜 – 𝘿𝙧𝙚𝙬 𝙉𝙤𝙡𝙙, 𝙀𝙢𝙞𝙡𝙮 𝙂𝙧𝙖𝙮

Charles ain’t goin’ down…

Now we’re unsafely in the month of scary, let’s talk about fear. Fear is a horror. We’re all afraid of something. Probably many things. Sometimes it is rational, and sometimes not. Examples of rational would be things like flying in an aeroplane; it’s not natural, is it, to be unsupported in the sky, travelling at a million miles an hour. But then again, you’re statistically far more likely to come a cropper whilst driving your own motorcar on the ground; so maybe that’s an example of irrational fear…? Some fear illness. Others fear mice. Many have a fear of ghosts, but that’s silly because ghosts don’t ex- WAAH!! Sorry, it was just the curtain moving in the breeze. Ahem, because ghosts don’t exist. Now that I think of it, most fears amount to the fear of death or at least some physical damage. Which makes sense, since we hold little more dear to us than life itself. But should we FEAR things? Fear and worry have one thing in common: they are completely and utterly pointless. Yes, yes, I know that fear is a chemical automation of some sort, designed to make sure we’re careful. But really, when fear comes along, we should try to replace it with astute observation and high awareness, should there be any danger. In most cases – like the aeroplane – fear should be replaced with a good book and your favourite tipple. Fear, like worry, does not help, and often makes things worse. We become erratic. The rational turns irrational.

There are many fears that lie under the surface, too. Like the aforementioned mice – I didn’t know I had a fear (phobia) of them until I *CC shudders at the memory* saw one in my living room. Freaked out, I did. Screamed like a girl. No, like a posh middle-aged woman of a hundred and fifty years ago, horrified at having seen a young couple kissing in broad daylight; more of a howl than a scream. There I was, clamped to the wall like an electromagnet, blinking no longer an automatic habit, unable to take my eyes off the blighter, because the last thing I wanted was to NOT know where it was. So yeah, fear is indeed a horror. Other fears that lie under the surface will sometimes rear their ugly head in dreams; nightmares, I should say. Teeth wobbling and falling out? Being chased? Drowning? General disasters for which you are embarrassingly unequipped, therefore rendered completely helpless? But then there’s the classic.. Falling. When you dramatically awake, from the black hole (why does it always end fading to black like a film?), sweating, panting, heart racing like the clappers, yet oh-so relieved that yes, it was just a dream; just a dream. But before that dark abyss, down into which you plunge, limbs flailing, like a whirling Hitchcock shot, there is the anticipation in your toes, knowing you’re about to descend. That tingling throb of fear. There is nothing to hold on to, and you just KNOW what’s going to happen. Our poor souls. Who said sleep was relaxing??

But then there’s the other form of falling. Falling in love. Ain’t it such a blissful phrase? Powerlessly overtaken by one of the strongest emotions known to man (and certainly also to woman), as you fall deeply into a cushion of the softest delight. There is nothing quite like it. So why should there ever be a fear of such a beautiful thing?? Well, maybe it is not healthy to be with the other character in this love story… Maybe they’re already currently entwined in the love of another. Hell, maybe YOU are…! Then I could understand the fear; you don’t want to screw things up. Fair dooze! But maybe it’s none of that. Maybe both characters are similarly detached from any other threatening lover… But then there’s still the hugest chance that the love felt is just a one way road; what THEN?! In this case it might be wise to deflect those feelings as quickly as they start to form. But what if your cockles start to tingle, and you just KNOW that the nearly-loved is starting to have similar tingles? Surely this is perfect, no? Well, simply the strength of love – it can be daunting; that “Am I really about to start this?” feeling. Plus, all the other rigmarole that comes with love. The inevitable, eventual problems that occur later on when you realise that their toes freak you out. Or even when you realise the addiction of it all; that you simply can’t cope unless the other is relatively nearby. Maybe you’re simply dreading the idea of it not working out in the end. All this, is the dirty gubbins that is love…

The thing is, sometimes it’s worth the gamble; falling in love. And usually, you just can’t help it. It’s like a full bladder; there comes a time when you just have to release and give in. And don’t you feel so much better afterwards? That’s at least how I felt when listening to the brand new single by Drew Nold and Emily Gray, ‘Not Falling’. Let’s come back to dreams… Dreams don’t only show us deep fear, they open the door and show us the way. And yet, no matter how innocent the dream, no matter how honest it is, how often do we awake from such a dream and instantly push it all back inside again? Why DO we do that? Do we so desperately want to be someone we’re naturally not? Aren’t people weird. So, yes(!), we have a new song to play with. A collaboration, no less, of two artists I have separately reviewed before – both a while ago. Emily, around 9 or 10 months ago; Drew, over two years ago – and that was only as a featured artist. This time around they are split equally, “split” perhaps being the operative word, if the cover and lyrics are anything to go by… Love is in the air. But apparently not to be inhaled, for fear of… for fear of WHAT? Well, only those two will truly know, for they are both the writers of this cutest acoustic tune. It sort of conjures the feeling of Disney, if Disney had been founded in England. I say that because it doesn’t have the over-production with which Disney would lavish it, but also because of the modest, innocent charm of it all. This all makes sense because one half of the musical duo is American while the other is English. Drew is from Missouri, and Emily lives in, well, she lives in Catalonia, but she’s originally from Suffolk (I believe).

Drew is on guitar. Aside from cello, acoustic guitar is the only instrument on the track. I believe it is double-tracked but with slightly different lines. Plucked with precision, yet with the lightest touch. Drew’s voice comes in after a couple of rounds; a bright, honest and comforting voice. It is strong without the power. He sets the scene post-dream. He then drops the M and replaces it with a D… Dread kicks in. From the happy contented verse, comes the brooding, darker pre-chorus. And THIS is where the dry Beatles-esque cello joins the sad party, played by Daniel Gonzalez. Thankfully, the chorus brings back the pep of the verse, complete with bunny-like hops from the cello. Just delightful! Verse two welcomes the lady, Emily. That voice is completely and utterly unmistakable; I have never heard a voice like it in my life, and we know it well. It is the melodious version of her speaking voice. I know this because we have met in person a total of twice, so I have had hours of hearing it in the fleshy-flesh. Can’t quite believe it’s only twice, but there it is. Just in case you thought that sounded like either she doesn’t shut up, or the meetings had been so long and grating I thought they would never end, I didn’t mean that. It’s simply like we have known each other a long while. Anyway, I’m going off the point. Her singing voice. She is just so good at that matter-of-fact way of singing that sounds like a casual chat. So real, so genuine, so honest, and yet still keeping up her signature trills and abrupt pauses. I believe her innocent pain, as I do Drew’s. But when they come together in harmony for that second chorus (1:33-1:54), complete with cello, it is like a flawless Hollywood split-screen. You know the kind; singing alone, together (or together alone, I’m never quite sure). Anyway, THAT’S my fave bit. Next up, we have a rip-roaring chorus, but it’s more like a new version or a part two. New melodies, complete with canonic phrasing shared between the two of them; all in the upper register with mucho gusto. This is where you’re all supposed to sway and sing along. So DO IT!! Eventually we simmer and settle back into that original chorus (like the second), only to end with a full stop like they’re making a stand: they’re NOT falling in LOVE!!! The whole piece is very nicely mixed by Drew himself, and mastered by a chap named Kevin Williams. WHAT a catchy song this is; you won’t believe how it sticks in your head. You have been warned…

I normally don’t go much for these drawn cartoony covers, but THIS one I love. And I know something you probably didn’t know. Who drew the cover? Emily!! Yup, this beautiful little image was drawn by Emily herself. It turns out she has drawn all her artwork since the end of last year. I am beyond impressed.

Who else thinks Drew and Emily look good together…? No, no, CC. Don’t make waves. You’ll anger their partners, or at least riddle them with fear.

WAAH!! Sorry, curtain again. Well, after all, it Shocktober.

Listen to 𝙉𝙤𝙩 𝙁𝙖𝙡𝙡𝙞𝙣𝙜 on the 𝗖𝗼𝗻𝗻𝗼𝗹𝗹𝘆’𝘀 𝗖𝗼𝗿𝗻𝗲𝗿 Spotify playlist HERE!

Listen to 𝙉𝙤𝙩 𝙁𝙖𝙡𝙡𝙞𝙣𝙜 on the 𝗖𝗼𝗻𝗻𝗼𝗹𝗹𝘆’𝘀 𝗖𝗼𝗿𝗻𝗲𝗿 Apple Music playlist HERE!

Listen to 𝙉𝙤𝙩 𝙁𝙖𝙡𝙡𝙞𝙣𝙜 on YouTube HERE!

Follow 𝘿𝙧𝙚𝙬 𝙉𝙤𝙡𝙙 on Instagram HERE!

Follow 𝙀𝙢𝙞𝙡𝙮 𝙂𝙧𝙖𝙮 on Instagram HERE!

Follow 𝙀𝙢𝙞𝙡𝙮 𝙂𝙧𝙖𝙮 on TwiX HERE!

Please share this post and let me know your thoughts in the comments below

Welcome all to 𝗖𝗼𝗻𝗻𝗼𝗹𝗹𝘆’𝘀 𝗖𝗼𝗿𝗻𝗲𝗿, a series of weekly reviews by Charles Connolly – an artist in his own right. Here, Charles delves into the greatest brand new singles brought to you by the best unsigned artists on our electrifying and eclectic set of 𝙉𝙚𝙬 𝘼𝙧𝙩𝙞𝙨𝙩 𝙎𝙥𝙤𝙩𝙡𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩 playlists.

𝙏𝙖𝙠𝙚 𝙏𝙤 𝙏𝙝𝙚 𝙎𝙠𝙞𝙚𝙨 (2026 𝙑𝙚𝙧𝙨𝙞𝙤𝙣) – 𝘿𝙤𝙧𝙞𝙖𝙣 𝙒𝙝𝙞𝙨𝙥𝙚𝙧

Charles makes a good thing different…

You know when you’ve spent just ages on something because you really want to be proud of the finished result? Ain’t it so satisfying when it all goes to plan? Seeing as most of us are artists, let’s talk about this in terms of art. Makes sense. Imagine you’re a painter, and you’ve started with the lightest sketch after having “whitewashed” the canvas. The perspective is just right, the intention is just as you had envisioned; you know this is going to work. And so, the first stroke of oil licks the canvas. The brush starts to guide your hand into the right areas, impressing and releasing pressure as it goes. Sometimes delicately, sometimes almost stabbing. Sometimes slow and languid, sometimes ferocious like the quick whip of a sabre. The layers build over several weeks until eventually you step back and see the painting not as a series daubs, but as one whole piece; a scene; a work of art.

The exhausted satisfaction runs over and through you like an ongoing windless, flickering sizzle; a firework’s continuous cascading last gasp. The feeling endures without regret or hesitation. You have succeeded. Up to now, it could be your finest. But as the years go by, you continue to sit with it. The “now” becomes a “then”. Since that moment of inspiration you have had many more. And since those weeks of expression your personality has changed. You think differently now. You work differently now. You wonder if that piece was the best it could have been. You have learnt so much over the years. You have improved in some ways, and changed in others. You have also become very critical of your own past work. You have even toyed with the phase of “nothing is good enough”. And so, with frustration and determination, you start again. Realising the merit in the original, you don’t begin with a violent whitewash; a destruction of the past; a deleting of history – thank the lord. Instead, you set it to one side, its pane reversed. You don’t want to be impressed upon, encouraged to copy what you believe to be less than perfect.

You start with a goal of current-minded perfection, knowing full well that perfection is impossible. Staring at the palette of similar hues, you wonder if these were quite right in the first place. A little more blue here, a little more red there, even a touch of yellow… Yellow! You would never have added yellow all those years ago. And yet yellow seemed so natural now. Huh! It’s funny how time can change one’s persuasions. The conviction is strong; passion riding high. Why is it that this time everything is so much swifter…? Are you more focussed? Do you care more? Was it always just a niggling irritation that needed eventual fixing so that finally you could move on to something new? Whichever reason, it is of no matter. The piece is coming together before your very eyes, and before long, it is done. You step back to admire, and admire is exactly what you do. A relief comes over you like that final debt repayment. You are free. THIS is what you meant. THIS is it……… You flip over the original and place them side-by-side. Hmmm…… Now you start to wonder… It turns out that the initial painting was indeed the very best it could have been. Much like the new version. Neither is better than the other. They are simply different.

And on that note, it is time to whisper with Dorian. That’s right folks, Dorian Whisper is in the house with his latest release, ‘Take To The Skies’. But wait, some of you might have thought that familiar… And to that, I say “my, look at YOU with the memory”!! ‘Take To The Skies’ was indeed a song of Dorian’s from quite long ago (2020, as it happens), but this is a brand new version. The 2026 Version, to be precise. But I don’t mean a quick re-jig of the faders or the sprucing up of a tired dry vocal. And neither do I mean one of those doomp-tick doomp-tick remixes. This is a full re-recording; a reenactment from a different angle, with a different view. Dorian (not his birth name, but we all know him as Dorian, so let’s stick with that) certainly has a signature sound in recent years. One with echoes of the 70s, 80s and 90s. The crispness of the 80s and 90s, with the smooth warmth of Steely Dan. However, he didn’t always have this sound. He used to be more a soft lamenting crooner (velvet bow tie and a twinkle in his eye) in a bossanova jazz bar than the happy-go-lucky marine biologist we have come to know and love. Yes, when doffing the musical cape, he is genuinely a globe-trotting marine biologist (Egyptian by origin).

I think on the whole, many music artists do tend to shudder or cringe when they hear their earlier stuff. They shouldn’t. Very often it is not bad, but simply different. And sometimes, it is actually better than their current output, but the artist rarely sees it this way. Dorian’s earlier music fortunately falls into the category of simply being different. Not better or worse. However he thought of his mature song ‘Take To The Skies’, he evidently felt it necessary to bring it up to date with his more recent releases. And considering the original remains available for all to hear, I think this quite a wise move. Why ever not! It’s also nice because this song was part of his very first release; an EP called ‘As Long as You Want’ – cheeky. And frankly, I bet most of you have never heard it, because listeners almost never delve far back enough. I think there’s this peculiar assumption/notion that if something is old, it is probably not very good; where newness trumps goodness. Even for this reason alone I think it’s great that Dorian decided to revamp his song. But the main reason I’m pleased he did is because it’s just fascinating to listen to the two entirely different versions, side-by-side. I could never say I preferred one over the other; they’re simply different.

The original is more dry, more intimate, somehow more Spanish, with a lethargic heat. It is sadder and more private. But is also more cheeky in a subtle way. The piano and jazz guitar stand together in unity, sharing limelight equally. The whole piece is cosy and quite personal, with restraint and modesty. This brand new version, however, is something else. Firstly, the key has been shifted up a whole step, for a brighter shine. From the very first guitar strum, this has money. There is an expensive sheen of confidence and reassurance. What was previously a classical guitar motif has been usurped by a wide, ringing duo of distorted electric guitars. It feels almost like the LIVE version for a band that has played this song a million times and wants to finally try something new. Which I suppose in a way, it is. The drums have reverb. The rimshot strikes with a vibrant shimmer. Everything has very much more presence and gusto. Those guitars are more akin to Zappa than to Gilberto. And then, there’s that voice. The most changed of everything, to me. The longing sounds more determined. It’s like the difference between “something has gone wrong, how sad” and “something has gone wrong, let’s make it right”. Dorian’s vocal is altogether much brighter, happier and positive. The pre-chorus is also one of the most changed parts. The original slinks into a soft bossa style (think Girl from Ipanema) while the new version rides and builds into a half-time funky groove complete with OWgan and choppy guitar strikes; the snare wallops the water with an almighty splash! The mix in general is technically far superior to the original, but that is not to say the original sounds worse. It’s an interesting thing, sound. What one listener might call muffled, another might call warm. What one listener might call harsh, another might call effervescent. Like those paintings, neither is better or worse, they’re simply different.

Let me know in the comments which version you prefer and why. And if you’re (for some reason) uncomfortable about picking one over the other, just say what you like about each version. Links to both are below.

After many tireless weeks, I’ve stepped back to admire my own masterpiece. Turns out it’s just a series of daubs. Ah well, I’ll call it modern art.

Listen to 𝙏𝙖𝙠𝙚 𝙏𝙤 𝙏𝙝𝙚 𝙎𝙠𝙞𝙚𝙨 (2026 𝙑𝙚𝙧𝙨𝙞𝙤𝙣) on the 𝗖𝗼𝗻𝗻𝗼𝗹𝗹𝘆’𝘀 𝗖𝗼𝗿𝗻𝗲𝗿 Spotify playlist HERE!

Listen to 𝙏𝙖𝙠𝙚 𝙏𝙤 𝙏𝙝𝙚 𝙎𝙠𝙞𝙚𝙨 (2026 𝙑𝙚𝙧𝙨𝙞𝙤𝙣) on the 𝗖𝗼𝗻𝗻𝗼𝗹𝗹𝘆’𝘀 𝗖𝗼𝗿𝗻𝗲𝗿 Apple Music playlist HERE!

Listen to 𝙏𝙖𝙠𝙚 𝙏𝙤 𝙏𝙝𝙚 𝙎𝙠𝙞𝙚𝙨 (2026 𝙑𝙚𝙧𝙨𝙞𝙤𝙣) on YouTube HERE!

Listen to 𝙏𝙖𝙠𝙚 𝙏𝙤 𝙏𝙝𝙚 𝙎𝙠𝙞𝙚𝙨 (𝙊𝙧𝙞𝙜𝙞𝙣𝙖𝙡 𝙑𝙚𝙧𝙨𝙞𝙤𝙣) on Spotify HERE!

Listen to 𝙏𝙖𝙠𝙚 𝙏𝙤 𝙏𝙝𝙚 𝙎𝙠𝙞𝙚𝙨 (𝙊𝙧𝙞𝙜𝙞𝙣𝙖𝙡 𝙑𝙚𝙧𝙨𝙞𝙤𝙣) on Apple Music HERE!

Listen to 𝙏𝙖𝙠𝙚 𝙏𝙤 𝙏𝙝𝙚 𝙎𝙠𝙞𝙚𝙨 (𝙊𝙧𝙞𝙜𝙞𝙣𝙖𝙡 𝙑𝙚𝙧𝙨𝙞𝙤𝙣) on YouTube HERE!

Follow 𝘿𝙤𝙧𝙞𝙖𝙣 𝙒𝙝𝙞𝙨𝙥𝙚𝙧 on Instagram HERE!

Follow 𝘿𝙤𝙧𝙞𝙖𝙣 𝙒𝙝𝙞𝙨𝙥𝙚𝙧 on TwiX HERE!

Please share this post and let me know your thoughts in the comments below

Welcome all to 𝗖𝗼𝗻𝗻𝗼𝗹𝗹𝘆’𝘀 𝗖𝗼𝗿𝗻𝗲𝗿, a series of weekly reviews by Charles Connolly – an artist in his own right. Here, Charles delves into the greatest brand new singles brought to you by the best unsigned artists on our electrifying and eclectic set of 𝙉𝙚𝙬 𝘼𝙧𝙩𝙞𝙨𝙩 𝙎𝙥𝙤𝙩𝙡𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩 playlists.

𝙎𝙤𝙣𝙜 𝙊𝙛 𝙏𝙝𝙚 𝙃𝙚𝙖𝙫𝙚𝙣𝙡𝙮 𝙁𝙡𝙪𝙩𝙚 – 𝘼𝙨𝙝𝙍𝙖𝙢𝙪𝙨

Charles meditates…

Your busy day starts a while before your alarm goes off. Not because you’re eager, but because you’re aware of how much there is to do. You’re aware that if you delay, your plate will spill over. And no one likes a sticky table. In the words of George Harrison, ‘It’s All Too Much’. By the time you sit down for breakfast, several things have already not gone to plan. You tripped over the rug that you said you’d straighten first thing in the morning (but didn’t), when pouring your coffee you missed the cup, and you left the freezer door ajar at some point the previous evening (again). Wet mess, brown mess, and throbbing toe. If only there were a way to rid oneself of the feeling this all leaves us. But it gets to you, right? You can’t just “go with the flow”. It annoys you that in just a matter of minutes you have screwed things up so badly, even before the day has properly begun. But all this trifling drivel soon evaporates once you start to think of what lies ahead. The REAL day. You are alert, staring dead ahead. Part depression, part panic…

I should imagine this scenario (or similar) to be somewhat familiar to many of you. What we need to do is step back. Yes, I know, this is the very last thing you intend to do, what with the mounting list of migraine-inducing junk. But you must. It is vital that you find a way to relax and be calm. Something reassuring that you know will always do the trick. No, don’t reach for the bottle (I saw ya); that’s not quite what I meant. Of course, this is easier said than done, because that mind of yours has a mind of its own; it just won’t be told. But you need to be ruthless and insistent. I have tried many things. Walking is nice, but it gives me time to think. Thinking means worry and so I end up obsessing even more, over what needs to be done. Music CAN work, but it is difficult to immerse oneself when the mind is already so full of sodding “important” junk, and so the melodies and sonic marvels become rather like background noise to the forefront of yet more thought. Watching a film feels too much like slacking when I know I should be working. Besides, the guilt stops me from immersing myself. And so, I find myself turning to books…

Most of you probably assume that I have always been an avid reader, what with my weekly writing and my adoration for language and woyds. But nope! Until recently, I had barely read a thing in the last decade. Mainly because I couldn’t concentrate. My own personal thoughts would encroach after just a few lines of prose, and everything would be inside out. It was always supposed to be that the book took me away from my thoughts and stresses, not the other way around. But during an unwell spate earlier this summer (lasting rather longer than I had hoped), I had found that only reading would make me feel normal and calm. And I’m delighted to say that I am now officially a bookworm! I have dashed and munched through the likes of Amis the first, Conrad, Murdoch, Banville, Barnes, McEwan, Ishiguro, Spark, Amis the second, and Waugh. But right now, I am reading a book by an author called Elif Shafak. For those of you who DO read, this might stand out as a rather different kettle of cod. And it is! The authors listed before are all either dark and pensive, light and fun, or plot-ridden to the point where I forget to eat. It was time for something different. Something fresh. Something to take me out of my comfort zone, only to realise there were cushions even more comfortable. While the writing of Elif Shafak can get a little nauseating from time to time (everything has to be “like a vibrant zesty whiff of a honeysuckle on a hazy, lazy afternoon in Spring, where grasshoppers sizzle with zeal” – you get the picture), there is something rather moreish and deeply calming about her writing style. Its ease is the ultimate meditation for me – at least right now.

The same can be said for my music tastes. You all know I love pop, soul, rock, EDM and prog. This is no secret. But you also know I like classical, folk and some softer jazz (not the crazy be-bop that gives me a headache – I get it, you can play more notes than anyone, now CAN it). You see, lately I have been going more for the pensive stuff. The songs that are less like songs, and more like little experiences. Where verses and choruses are not immediately present. Have you heard Agnes Obel’s latest, for example? Masterful, soothing, unique, while subtly electrifying the senses “like a warm winter soup with added spices from the Orient” (oh, thanks Elif, look what you’ve done to me). Anyway, it is perhaps with no surprise that I specifically went for AshRamus’ latest release. But it is quite a surprise (a shock to me, actually – I had to check my files to make sure) that I have never – believe it or not – reviewed AshRamus. I still wonder if there is an error in my filing system, and that I indeed have, but let’s for now assume that I am infallible (HA!). Please welcome AshRamus, with his latest release, ‘Song Of The Heavenly Flute’ (SOTHF from now on).

I would like to focus more on the person behind the music than the music itself, because I kind of believe they are one. AshRamus is a man called Kostas Lukosiunas. It’s all Greek to me. But it ain’t. Born in Lithuania to a musical father, Kostas now resides in Norway. Now, I know what you’re thinking. How idyllic, as you picture the fjords and mountains. Just because I live in London doesn’t mean I have a view of Big Ben, while I squat in Trafalgar Square. The view from Kostas’ studio window of course isn’t… oh wait, it is. His view is genuinely of the fjords and mountains. It genuinely is idyllic. Fine, but he won’t be one of those olde worlde peaceful producer hippies like Rick Rubin… Well, actually, he kinda is. Your initial assumption from his artist name might have been that his real name is simply Ashley Ramus, but in fact it stems from the word ashram, meaning calm. His artist name literally means ‘I am calm’ in Lithuanian. Kostas is pure Zen. He was initially, and he is now. From an early age he played the piano. From the age of 7 he attended a music school. It was all going so well! But at the age of 18 he was conscripted into the Soviet Army. Music was immediately halted with an X as he spent a decade saving lives (note: not ending lives). The following decade he was in the construction business – this is getting very peculiar and slightly sad… Since 2008 he has been a diving instructor (yes, diving, not driving). Finally, in 2022 he had a son at the age of 51 (approx.). And THIS was where his love of music came flooding back. He bought a synthesiser for his son and himself to play around with. The rest is history.

Since the birth of his son, he has released more than 40 pieces. Almost all of which are ambient live performances, played by himself in the spur of the moment. No editing, no corrections, and… NO MIXING!! You might be thinking they must all sound a bit rough and unfinished, though. A bit drifty, with errors and poor sound quality… Yet this is far from the case. He just simply gets it right at the source. Usually his work is on the side of Brian Eno, probably the most famous ambient maker of music. Yet this time around with SOTHF, AshRamus seems to edge more towards Brian’s brother, Roger. I feel the difference between the Enos, is that Brian is more about sound, texture and feel, while Roger is more the composer. I strongly advise you to listen to Roger Eno, as I feel he has been somewhat publicly eclipsed by his brother, so doesn’t get nearly as much limelight as he perhaps ought. To be fair, Roger didn’t also produce Bowie, U2 or Coldplay. So, while AshRamus usually concentrates more on the ambient feel of a certain atmosphere as he stares beyond the fjords (“the water glistening in what meagre sunshine Norway sees fit to apportion” – stop it, Elif), SOTHF is much more refined and composed than his usual output. Which is why it particularly caught my ear. The result is lush, mesmerising, hopeful and sad, but with defined melodies and chord structures. At the length of a pop song, Kostas somehow takes us on a wise, noble journey. And despite the entire piece consisting only of synthesisers, it is astoundingly organic. I am actually not quite sure if it would achieve even half the same intimacy had it been recorded with orchestral instruments. The air is warm yet fresh, and I feel nature. I feel nature as Kostas feels nature. And he portrays it so well. My only “criticism” is that I just WISH it were twice the length. With this kind of music I like to truly immerse myself, and it can take a while for me to be in the zone. The good thing is, we can play it as many times as we wish.

My apologies, this article could have been written better, but I just couldn’t wait to get back to my book – “like an impatient child three nights before Christmas, as the lights are warm and low, and everything remains, for now, intact” – bloody Elif Shafak.

Listen to 𝙎𝙤𝙣𝙜 𝙊𝙛 𝙏𝙝𝙚 𝙃𝙚𝙖𝙫𝙚𝙣𝙡𝙮 𝙁𝙡𝙪𝙩𝙚 on the 𝗖𝗼𝗻𝗻𝗼𝗹𝗹𝘆’𝘀 𝗖𝗼𝗿𝗻𝗲𝗿 Spotify playlist HERE!

Listen to 𝙎𝙤𝙣𝙜 𝙊𝙛 𝙏𝙝𝙚 𝙃𝙚𝙖𝙫𝙚𝙣𝙡𝙮 𝙁𝙡𝙪𝙩𝙚 on the 𝗖𝗼𝗻𝗻𝗼𝗹𝗹𝘆’𝘀 𝗖𝗼𝗿𝗻𝗲𝗿 Apple Music playlist HERE!

Listen to 𝙎𝙤𝙣𝙜 𝙊𝙛 𝙏𝙝𝙚 𝙃𝙚𝙖𝙫𝙚𝙣𝙡𝙮 𝙁𝙡𝙪𝙩𝙚 on YouTube HERE!

Follow 𝘼𝙨𝙝𝙍𝙖𝙢𝙪𝙨 on Instagram HERE!

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Welcome all to 𝗖𝗼𝗻𝗻𝗼𝗹𝗹𝘆’𝘀 𝗖𝗼𝗿𝗻𝗲𝗿, a series of weekly reviews by Charles Connolly – an artist in his own right. Here, Charles delves into the greatest brand new singles brought to you by the best unsigned artists on our electrifying and eclectic set of 𝙉𝙚𝙬 𝘼𝙧𝙩𝙞𝙨𝙩 𝙎𝙥𝙤𝙩𝙡𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩 playlists.

𝘼𝙙𝙙𝙞𝙘𝙩𝙚𝙙 𝙩𝙤 𝙁𝙖𝙞𝙡𝙪𝙧𝙚 – 𝙇𝙐𝘿𝙄𝙊𝙎𝙄𝙎

Charles is umming and erring…

Welcome to the wonderful world of Health and Safety. Where a nick or a scratch is a thing of the past. Well, thank GOODness. Why, a scratch is liable to get infected. Which could lead to sepsis. Which could lead to death! I’d better replace that dangerous blade back in its silicone sheath, pronto. Oh, but I must wash the knife first for fear of evil bacteria seeping throughout the country, creating the latest in widespread pandemics. But how then do I wash the inside of the sheath? Ya know, it might be best if I treat them as disposable – I’m sure there’s an automatic subscription plan on Amazon for such things. Yes, that’ll do it. But then again, this is very bad for the environment; that plastic waste will pile up underground, pushing us closer and closer to the sun. And don’t get me started on the dangers of the sun. All in all, it’s probably best if I cut these raw potatoes (dangerous in themselves) with a blunt spoon. I like to err on the side of caution.

It’s quite the phrase, don’t you think? “To err on the side of caution”. And it’s one that we use ad nauseam these days, be it in words or in definition. It runs alongside “Better safe than sorry”. These phrases slip off the tongue with rope and carabiner, so as to be safely rescued for future use. “Safety First” – there’s another one. It seems sensible to me that the first priority in life should be safety. I mean, none of us wants to die. But then again, it also seems rather peculiar. As if the meaning of life is simply to manage to get through it unscathed. “Look at me, I’ve done nothing, experienced zero, achieved zilch, and not a single broken bone!”… But then of course, there’s the cheeky classic: “Always wear protection”. Okay, so it keeps the population down. It calms parents of teenagers. It appeases whorey diseases. But…… “ALWAYS”?? If you heed this advice ad infinitum, you might never finally find out the wherecumfromence of babies. Besides, you could always err on the side of ‘bortion.

While bubble wrap has its uses, it should never be the only wearable. Besides, until Gore-Tex bubble wrap is invented, we’ll quickly sweat and suffocate. Risk is what got us where we are today. Trial and error is at the heart of everything. “If you don’t try, you won’t succeed”. Now, THERE’S a phrase I can cower behind! To err on the side of caution, is to curl up and give up. It’s also one of the main reasons that people are so inherently lazy these days. They’re well aware that if they try something new, they will probably fail – so they don’t try at all. Great. That’s one numb, dull, and frankly pointless population. It is not only great inventors, scientists and artists that should be striving and trying new things; it should be a mandate for every man, woman and child on the surface of this potentially great earth. And it is that vital word “potentially” that I wish for you to see. The potential is there in all of us. Well, to an extent, anyway. Most of us, then. If we keep on being content with an output and success rate of 50-60%, then we might never come close to that ideal 100%. A change will (potentially) do you good – thank you, Sheryl Crow. But a random ill-thought-out change could make things worse. A change will do you bad. I don’t mean for people to change for the sake of change (another common phrase); a random punt is indeed a waste of time, effort and energy. I mean a calculated risk. Calculated to the extent that the probability or likelihood is success rather than failure. We don’t WANT to fail, but sometimes failure is easier and less stressful than the potential of success.

And so, to guitars and all that. This week brings a relative newcomer on the scene; he only started releasing last year in 2025. Now, I know some of you might be thinking that’s a warning sign for HAL (A.I.), but we really can’t start thinking like this, or we’ll end up like old fogeys, moaning that you can’t trust anything new – or anyone young. Because, let’s face it, newness tends to come from the young. We NEED the young, and we’ve all got to start releasing at SOME point. This artist is also a relative newcomer in the community, having only joined at the very end of April. But from what I’ve seen so far, he ain’t one of those “I’ll just stay in the shadows until the end of time” types, but neither is he one of those “Look at me, look at me, I’m so bloody brilliant and I’m such a genius” types. He’s modest, he’s attentive, he’s got a brain, he’s extremely kind and supportive, but most all he’s genuine. He’s also got great taste; by which I mean he likes my music. And just so you know, we have not yet spoken a word to each other. Yet. His is a jib most styled. Please welcome LUDIOSIS, with his brand new shebang, ‘Addicted to Failure’! LUDIOSIS – aside from being yet another member of that ruthless UPPERCASE GANG – is actually an English lad named Daniel Frew. I can’t quite decide if he looks like a Dan or a Daniel. He’s probably fine with either, depending on who’s speaking, but I think I’ll stick with Dan. “Daniel’s the maniel who caniel” slips off the tongue quite without any rope or carabiner, falling face down on the carpet – no motion: it’s dead. So, Dan it is.

I have quietly been watching this artist for a while – God, that sounds creepy; as if I’m rubbing my thighs while drooling a little. Anyway. He has always been good, but I was waiting for him to truly come out of his shell with a bright pride. He’s done it. This chap ain’t addicted to failure. The thing is, it’s not quite failure we mean. No one can really be addicted to failure (except perhaps masochists). It’s more a borderline pass with no merit and certainly no distinction. A certain “that’ll do” attitude. I find this to be common in indie music. Hell, I find this to be common in mainstream music – at least when it comes to writing. But more to the point, I find this to be common in people in general. They’re not wanting to fail, but rather simply not wanting to improve, for fear that it all goes bosom skyward. It’s the risk that puts them off. And – I believe – it is THIS that Dan is portraying in ‘Addicted to Failure’; the inability to change one’s ways for the better. Or: the blindness in people, where they simply don’t see their own flaws.

The drummer hol- wait a sec. Dan does everything, so all that you hear is just this one man. I’ll start again. Standing tall (yes, standing), the drummer holds one stick aloft – pointing to the answer in Heaven – as the audience whoops and spills beer on purpose (despite the extortionate price) – YOLO. His other stick slams down repeatedly on the snare, interjecting occasionally with a hoof to the pedal to the skin of the kick drum. He sits, maintaining poise, energy, balance and rhythm, just as the first guitarist gets the spotlight, centre stage. It is Lennon’s ‘Revolution’ intro – I’m sure you know it well. Mono turns to stereo as double-tracked guitars (and bass) complete the ensemble, hard-panned left and right. It’s reminiscent of Franz Ferdinand and early Bloc Party, but with more “rock” and less 2004 trendy quirk. This is high energy stuff. At 0:45, things go a little more metal, before settling back into the initial vibe. Verse 1 starts at 0:57… That means that the first whole minute is instrumental. Does this mean the song is indeed instrumental? Or does this maybe mean that the song is approximately 43 years long? Nope and nope. The song is under 4 minutes. Meaning we get less than 3 minutes of actual song (excluding the ravishing intro) – which I love. Fast rock songs should generally be pretty short – it keeps the punch and the energy, while our full attention never wanes. I must say, the unusual very long intro is a fabulous choice and works perfectly. Verse 1: welcome to the voice of Dan. But also, welcome to a sound not too dissimilar to early Queens of the Stone Age. In fact, much of the song feels a little like a happier, more energetic take on Interpol and Queens of the Stone Age. Of course, plus many other influences, such as Blondie and even our very own Mal Fantôme and Unobliterated (Dan, you’re not Gary’s long lost brother, are you…?). As I must always say, though, despite all influences, there is that quintessential original LUDIOSIS sound. I absolutely adore the three-part harmony “oohs” running in and out of the piece – it gives things a slightly brighter pop feel with a smile. All in all, the drums are tight, the guitars and bass are supoyb, and Dan has one HECK of a voice. Exquisition incarnate!

Dan’s the man who can.

Do you only ever boil eggs – you don’t even particularly like boiled eggs – because you’re concerned that if you crack the shell, the yolk will split as soon it hits the skillet…? If at first you don’t succeed, fry, fry again.

Listen to 𝘼𝙙𝙙𝙞𝙘𝙩𝙚𝙙 𝙩𝙤 𝙁𝙖𝙞𝙡𝙪𝙧𝙚 on the 𝗖𝗼𝗻𝗻𝗼𝗹𝗹𝘆’𝘀 𝗖𝗼𝗿𝗻𝗲𝗿 Spotify playlist HERE!

Listen to 𝘼𝙙𝙙𝙞𝙘𝙩𝙚𝙙 𝙩𝙤 𝙁𝙖𝙞𝙡𝙪𝙧𝙚 on the 𝗖𝗼𝗻𝗻𝗼𝗹𝗹𝘆’𝘀 𝗖𝗼𝗿𝗻𝗲𝗿 Apple Music playlist HERE!

Watch 𝘼𝙙𝙙𝙞𝙘𝙩𝙚𝙙 𝙩𝙤 𝙁𝙖𝙞𝙡𝙪𝙧𝙚 on YouTube HERE!

Follow 𝙇𝙐𝘿𝙄𝙊𝙎𝙄𝙎 on Instagram HERE!

Follow 𝙇𝙐𝘿𝙄𝙊𝙎𝙄𝙎 on TwiX HERE!

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Welcome all to 𝗖𝗼𝗻𝗻𝗼𝗹𝗹𝘆’𝘀 𝗖𝗼𝗿𝗻𝗲𝗿, a series of weekly reviews by Charles Connolly – an artist in his own right. Here, Charles delves into the greatest brand new singles brought to you by the best unsigned artists on our electrifying and eclectic set of 𝙉𝙚𝙬 𝘼𝙧𝙩𝙞𝙨𝙩 𝙎𝙥𝙤𝙩𝙡𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩 playlists.

𝙎𝙬𝙖𝙣 𝙎𝙤𝙣𝙜 – 𝙑𝙖𝙡𝙚𝙧𝙮𝙖𝙣

Charles swans along…

Boyds. I’ve always been fascinated by boyds. “Boyds?? Who are THEY??” – ah sorry. Boyds, you know. Boyds of prey. Boyds of paradise. Boyds of a feather. This boyd has flown. I don’t mean William Boyd and Pattie Boyd. Boyds, YOU know! So yes, ever since I was about 11, boyds have very much been a part of my life. There they were, all around. Captivating and even intriguing, each in their own way. Little ones, curvy ones, ones of all different colours, shy ones, brash ones, elegant ones, and ones clamouring for attention. Of course, I had my favourites, but I enjoyed having them all around. Sometimes I would even try to speak to them. They rarely spoke back. Sometimes they would just give a flutter and turn away, only to disappear. But then as my teens started to really take hold, I became more determined. Then more so in my early twenties. I really became an avid boydwatcher. And it was then that I started to learn their language. They were not afraid of me anymore, although I could still discern a certain amount of caution on their part. Which is fair enough; how were they to know if I might pounce at any time like a puddy tat? That my friendliness wasn’t all a ruse in order to reach out and grab their plump breast? I would never be so brazen. I actually LOVE boyds.

As to the winged variety, I hadn’t really given them much thought at all until parakeets came to dwell not too long ago. Yes, I even wrote a song about them. But my boydal fascination was piqued by them. It made me pay more attention to ALL of them. And London is FULL of winged boyds. I couldn’t imagine living anywhere without being surrounded by my avian friends. And It’s not just pigeons, sparrows and (more recently) parakeets. Sparrows are now quite rare in London, sadly. But I have noticed far more geese, quacking through the air; not to mention the odd red kite! Magpies and crows continue to guard with suspicion, as if one day the gates of the Tower of London might be open to them – they won’t; it’s strictly ravens only. But they practise, nevertheless. I did experience one sad sight a few weeks ago, though. On a surprisingly green patch of grass, lay an unmoving black shape. I assumed at first that it was a black carrier bag, but the day was blustery and there was no flutter in said black shape. As I approached closer, I realised to my horror that it was a dead crow. Then I thought “Ha! It’s a murder of crows!” (Sorry, moyder) – which amused me no end, successfully diluting the trauma that filled me for the following five minutes.

But then there are London’s Royal Parks, of which there are eight. And frankly, they are splendid. I have never quite seen anything close in any other city or even country. Remember, these are parks, not nature reserves, woodlands or countryside. My particular favourites being Regent’s Park, St. James’s Park, Richmond Park and Kensington Gardens. There is such elegance and peace in all of these parks, to the extent that I often completely forget that I’m in busy-busy London. But there is one thing (aside from grass) that ties these Royal parks together. The most elegant creature resides there. The swan. I can watch swans for hours (okay, ten minutes), as they glide atop the shimmering glass, looking as though they have been crafted in the Murano glass factory in Venice. And when a little kid gets too close, the majestic flap of its wings is godly! The swan’s is even MORE impressive. The kid retreats and runs back to mummy. The swan scoops for thirst, and moves on in stoic, noble continuation. The sad truth is that, like everything, it doesn’t live forever. It will eventually feel its time ebbing towards a close. And this is when they sing the tune of angels: A-WARR-KWEK-KWEK, A-WARR-KWEK-KWEK!! Okay, so it ain’t no tune of angels. They may look like they’ve been sent by the heavens, but they sound like a cockney newspaper salesman from a hundred years ago. And so we experience the swan song.

A little boyd told me there’s a new song just released into the wild. Who dat little boyd? Valeryan. What dat new song? ‘Swan Song’. We’re going folkly. But foyst…! What exactly is a swan song? Traditionally, it means that final gasp of brilliance before their eternal sleep. For Freddie Mercury, it was ‘The Show Must Go On’. For Bowie, it was the album ‘Blackstar’. It is so touching, so moving, and very often solidifies their name in the annals of time. It can of course go wrong. Some might expect to receive rapturous applause for the genius within, but instead get lukewarm 3-out-of-5 star reviews, complete with a disappointed raised eyebrow. And then they drop off the planet without so much as an “our thoughts go out to the family”. Very sad, indeed. Usually, though, the swan song is valid proof that they really could achieve greatness right up to the end, and it’s therefore even more of a tragedy that they were taken from us before they sucked. But then again, maybe their demise was BECAUSE they put so much into that final fling. The art was just too much, its power too great, and the body could take no more. That’s possibly a thing. What Valeryan did was different. This is simply the title of her latest release. Up to a point, it is more literal than you might imagine…

She sings of boyds. Wild boyds flying free, to be precise. It is beautiful and frankly strangely refreshing in this world of “Gonna go to the club; take some pills; slit my wrists cos I’m so motherf**king depressed” – it gets a little grating and tiresome after a while… Sometimes I don’t want to be screamed at by some annoying little copycat attention seeker – call me old fashioned. So, boyds it is. Valeryan sings of the happy part of a bird’s life, but then she zones in on the swan. This swan having led a contented life – save the odd annoying little kid – sees that it is reaching its final days. It just knows, and it starts to croon. The other birds cry in apprehensive mourning as they wave their wings; a final goodbye. But although ‘Swan Song’ is literal at first, it then migrates for the winter, towards something closer to our own home. For we are not boyds. We are humen. Sorry, I pity the foreigners using Google Translate to read my articles. I mean Birds. I mean Humans. I just like to make my own woyds from toym to toym. The bridge of the song suggests that death is not always something that simply comes at the end of one’s life. It can sever life when in its prime, which can be brought on by human tampering. Malaria – sorry, I call her Malaria in private (long story), and was about to talk about diseases – Valeryan mentions bird flu, SARS and CoViD. All manmade meddling. This is the point where the song goes deeper, and there is fault involved. Suddenly it is a “nature vs man” theme. Always complicated.

So, the song begins as a neutral narrative with a somber undertone. Then we go full-on depression and blame. But finally we end up with a more positive outlook. “Sure, millions caught the bird flu, but millions more remain” – always look on the bright side of life. She then suggests that we shouldn’t worry that we might get ill and die, but instead that we should just make the most of life. I was lucky enough to hear the demo of ‘Swan Song’ and when I first latched on to “Sure, millions caught the bird flu”, I heard “John Williams caught the bird flu”, but that is neither here nor there. Musically speaking, the song is a joy. A sad joy, but a joy. Valeryan has a voice like no other. It has experience, grace, and yes, age. But age is not a thing of shame, but a thing of pride! This fine lady has lived through years that most of us have only read about or been told about – complete with all the exaggerated yarns. She has also experienced the many sides of the music biz through all its peaks and valleys – complete with the exaggerated yarns. But now, she lives a quiet life in the English countryside with its acres of land, complete with the exaggerated barns. Valeryan has a voice of wisdom. It drips with an age of long ago. A time of tales and rumour. Like the lyrics, her voice is refreshing but also genuine. She isn’t just copying artists from decades ago. Because she WAS one of those artists from decades ago. She was part of the first wave of 60s singer-songwriters. As to the music itself, it all just flows with refined satisfaction. You may be surprised what you manage to pick out from repeated listens.

Despite the song’s title I’m happy to report that this song is NOT the last from Valeryan, for I have heard that she is currently working on the next. I must admit, I was a tad concerned when I saw the title of the song, and bearing in mind that she is no spring chicken herself… But no. Life goes on, and so will the songs. We must ALL keep going and not lose faith. We must continue to make; to create. Even in the smallest ways. Otherwise there isn’t a great deal of point in being around.

The next time a bird poops on your head, make sure to mutter “fowl foul”. It might get you through the trauma.

Listen to 𝙎𝙬𝙖𝙣 𝙎𝙤𝙣𝙜 on the 𝗖𝗼𝗻𝗻𝗼𝗹𝗹𝘆’𝘀 𝗖𝗼𝗿𝗻𝗲𝗿 Spotify playlist HERE!

Listen to 𝙎𝙬𝙖𝙣 𝙎𝙤𝙣𝙜 on the 𝗖𝗼𝗻𝗻𝗼𝗹𝗹𝘆’𝘀 𝗖𝗼𝗿𝗻𝗲𝗿 Apple Music playlist HERE!

Listen to 𝙎𝙬𝙖𝙣 𝙎𝙤𝙣𝙜 on YouTube HERE!

Follow 𝙑𝙖𝙡𝙚𝙧𝙮𝙖𝙣 on Instagram HERE!

Follow 𝙑𝙖𝙡𝙚𝙧𝙮𝙖𝙣 on TwiX HERE!

Hire Charles to produce/mix/master your song HERE!

Please share this post and let me know your thoughts in the comments below

Welcome all to 𝗖𝗼𝗻𝗻𝗼𝗹𝗹𝘆’𝘀 𝗖𝗼𝗿𝗻𝗲𝗿, a series of weekly reviews by Charles Connolly – an artist in his own right. Here, Charles delves into the greatest brand new singles brought to you by the best unsigned artists on our electrifying and eclectic set of 𝙉𝙚𝙬 𝘼𝙧𝙩𝙞𝙨𝙩 𝙎𝙥𝙤𝙩𝙡𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩 playlists.

𝘽𝙞𝙜 𝙏𝙞𝙢𝙚 – 𝘼𝙨𝙝𝙨𝙩𝙤𝙣𝙚

Charles celebrates his 300th article…

Can you explain what it means to have hit the big time? I mean, what exactly IS “the big time”…? Most people call it fame. Although there is certainly often an element of fame, it definitely isn’t the only factor. I think it’s much more. For example, someone fresh out of university will have high aspirations to be the best in their field; but of course, it doesn’t begin that way. We all start small (unless you got a lucky leg-up from daddy), and then over time we climb the ladder, promotion after promotion, pay rise after pay rise, always with that shiny goal in mind: the big time. The top! Some people don’t want the big time. Others tell themselves they don’t want the big time, because deep down inside they know they’re not good enough to ever hit the big time. Or they’re too lazy to attempt it. The big time is not for everyone. For some, the big time is more localised; more of a private affair. Like turning from a boy into a man. Or having a family. Or finally finishing War and Peace (now you can call yourself a well-read intellectual – you’re still not, by the way). I see “the big time” as a mission. One’s own mission…

Over the last six years, EYE have had my own little mission; and it’s certainly not what you might think… I like to think of it as a scheme. A perfectly choreographed scheme involving planning, research and one heck of a lot of patience. And it starts with an admission. Not an admission of guilt, for I feel none of it, but an admission nevertheless. The admission is this. I have been lying to you. Yes, each and every one of you has been lied to. I have been using my articles to gather your comments. Through your comments I have been given access to your accounts. Through these accounts I have snaked through to your personal computers and phones. Through your computers and phones I have managed to garner pretty much every piece of information about you. But most importantly, your bank account details. Yes, even those little digits on the back of the card that give me full access. And of course, your emails. Your precious emails and texts that allow me to see into your soul. Basically, unless you do as I say, I own you. THIS was my mission.

Huh. You think you know someone! I’m aware this might come as rather an uncomfortable shock, and for that I am truly sorry. The thing is, I’m lying. The extent of my hacking ability amounts to successfully logging into my own banking app. For me that’s an achievement in itself. So, just to be clear, everything in the previous paragraph was a complete lie. When it comes to data theft, I wouldn’t know where to start. But most importantly, I wouldn’t try, because I would never want to do this. Lying makes me feel sick – whether it’s me doing the lying or it’s me having been lied to. Even this brief little lie right now just to make you jump then release with relief, was uncomfortable for me. But hell, it was fun. I did have a genuine, quiet, unsaid mission though, and today this mission has finally been achieved…

My mission was to get to 300. Yes, 300 articles (let’s be real, they’re articles, not reviews). This mission was so subtle, that I hadn’t even thought about how long this would take me, despite it being a rather simple sum. About 50 in a year. About 6 years. For me it was simply “Can you get to 300?”… It was a completely arbitrary number – utterly without meaning or reason – but it felt doable. Just about… Bear in mind that I basically set aside an entire day every single week for writing these things, so that’s 300 days spent writing these things. God, think what else I could have been doing!! But the thing is, I don’t think anything I could have been doing would have been as fulfilling, satisfying, interesting, educational, enlightening, revealing, enriching and enjoyable as this. It has almost become my main art form (or creative compulsion) – which I do not actually like. I do not like that it has become what I am known for. I need to get back to making music. It’s supposed to be my raison d’être. So bloody well do it!! And I will, I will. But I don’t want to swap one for another. I want to do both. In the pre-fame days of The Beatles, they used to chant to each other, “What are we gonna be? Bigger than Elvis!”… It wasn’t long until they achieved this seemingly impossible feat. Did they then disband and choose another profession? Of COURSE not. They sought out more goals while maintaining all previous achievements. And they smashed every last one of them. I want to keep getting better. Once one mission is complete, we don’t want to just put it in a box and die. I will of course be continuing my weekly musings, but I will add to this. I will try to work out what my next mission is to be. 300, though… Cor! I feel quite shiny. I’m still slightly amazed that I managed to keep going every week for 6 years. There’s something about quantity that shows one’s quality is not short-lived, or even a fluke. The most important thing for me is standards. It always has been. And – I hope – always will be. I have never seen the point in doing less than one’s very best. “When you got a job to do, you gotta do it well” – thank you, Paul McCartney. He then sang “You gotta give the other fella hell”… Well, I feel I’ve done that too. Say live and let die!

A quick(ish) aside, because I can. I would like all of you to look at your own work, your own music, objectively. I would like you to be honest with yourselves. The song you’ve written, is it the kind of thing that you would like to listen to if given the choice of all the music in the world? Is it boring? Is it interesting? Does it do enough? How’s about your singing? CAN you sing? Are you giving it enough gusto? How’s your tone? How’s your tuning? When it comes to production, do you know what you’re doing, or are you just doing what you’ve always done? And was that ever quite right in the first place? How does that production compare with the rest of the music you’ve listened to? And finally, the sound… Does your sound completely fall off a cliff when put side by side with the rest of whatever music you’ve been enjoying your entire life? All of this is not meant to depress you. It is supposed to excite you. If you’ve been completely honest with yourself and you see nothing but excellence, then this alone is enough to excite. You have made it. You are brilliant. You have hit the big time! If, however, you are starting to see flaws and holes, look into the future. You can be better. You WILL be better. Strive and strive further. If you feel you’re out of your depth but you know it could be improved, allow me to drag you into the shallow end, wipe your brow and alleviate the burden. This is what I do for a living. I know all about this stuff. I can be of service to you. Before you hit the big time, “hit me up”! Yes, that’s a shameless plug, by hey – 300, baby!

Oh, and stop the HAL (A.I.) junk. It’s not interesting, it’s not fun, and it’s not you. I also suspect that even YOU are bored with it. And of COURSE you are. It’s a gimmick. It gives you zero sense of achievement, because you haven’t actually achieved a thing. But also, it’s a lie. And no one likes being lied to. 300, baby. 300. Phew!

For old times’ sake, let’s have a review. This week’s winner is someone who has never appeared here before, but it’s also someone who has wandered through my “maybe list” a total of 5 times. And had it not been for healthy competition from other brilliant artists, they would probably have appeared here several times. Who dat? It’s Australia’s Ashstone, with their latest single, ‘Big Time’. Ashstone isn’t a band, but just one man. I could call him Lester (for that is his name), but he seems to call himself Big Les. Entirely separate from 90s UK band (featuring Keith Allen, Damien Hirst and Blur’s Alex James), Fat Les. Let’s talk about Big Les, then. Well, I think that about wraps that up. I have no information except that he is from Canberra. But I don’t mind because he makes music. I have more experience in music than big Australians. When it comes to ‘Big Time’, its lyrical meaning is less what I explained above, and more simply a feeling. The feeling of freedom and happiness. Let’s face it, these days this more than constitutes the big time! Being able to breathe and smile simultaneously (neither through gritted teeth) is very much such an achievement. Or at least it certainly feels that way. And Big Les’ easy way of singing suggests he’s already hit his big time. Oh, by the way, don’t pay any attention to the lyrics on Apple Music: they seem to be erroneous, potentially being the words for another song entirely. Yes, it confused me too…

To describe Ashstone’s music is both easy and hard. Correction, it is relatively easy to describe the music, but hard to explain why I like it. The music itself is a kind of flowing soulful rocky poppy vibe of average tempo, with warm retro guitars and strong, calming bass. But ultimately that sounds a bit dull. And really, this music should be quite dull. There are however various artists and bands that I really go for, and I can’t quite explain why. I mean ones that I really LOVE. One band I have been listening to for 25 years, only in this past month have I really realised that I love their music. No, that’s not quite right. I have always really gone for them, but have never thought of them as being one of my favourite bands. I never really think of them at all, to be honest. I don’t really understand it. I love them and have known all their music intimately, but at the same time I have never really acknowledged that I have such a deep appreciation for them. That band is The Strokes. I was addicted to their first album – literally, I felt guilty for not playing it. Then I was obsessed with the second album. Then Juicebox changed my life. And they just never let me down. That is, until the absolutely horrific autotune used across the whole of the new album’s vocals (it literally sounds like an error in the mixing process) – thankfully, this community has never really been afflicted by autotune. But aside from this tuning blip, I now hold them as close as any of my other favourite bands. Like a load of teddy bears on my bed that I refuse to let go of. The thing is, I can’t quite explain WHY I like The Strokes so much. When listening to Ashstone – ‘Big Time’ or almost any other of his releases – I get exactly the same feeling. Something cosy and close, that’s soulful and old fashioned, but also bright and a little funky. It’s like it’s saying “everything’s okay, we’re with you, we’re just like you, everything will be all right, let’s just jam and forget about everything else”. Like The Strokes (those cheeky, stylish New York Italians), I feel I know Big Les. I also feel like I am being passed a joint by someone who never quite grew up. Making me regret having grown up (at the same time as wondering if I ever DID grow up). There’s something so unshowy about it all. So casual. So “sure, pull up a floor cushion and get groovy, man; I’ll make you some chai. Here, play with these chopsticks”.

Ashstone’s music should have quite a wide audience because of its welcoming quality. But it’s a warm welcome that manages to avoid tweeness or any kind of assumption that we’re age five and thwee kworters. The sad truth is that I don’t think many people have ever heard the music of Ashstone. As far as I am aware, Big Les has NEVER been on the NAS Top 20 chart, and I have NEVER heard anyone mention his music. I see this as the kind of music that no one is capable of disliking, no matter their preferred genre. I can see rock and pop fans liking it. I can see hip-hop and afro-beat fans liking it. I can see electronic and punk fans liking it. And yet, where is it…? Nowhere! This must be crushing for Big Les. Hence why I felt the need to do what I have been doing for many years: trying to get people’s names out there. In my eyes, anyone making great music deserves to be heard; deserves to be known about. And in my own little way, my Corner to a certain extent can provide that. But of course, I don’t talk about just any old music here, it has to be very good. Standards and all that.

Pay attention to the fullness of ‘Big Time’, despite the production’s lack of layers. It doesn’t need loads of bells and whistles. It’s all about the song, the vibe and the mixing. Proving that Les is more.

Mission complete! 300, baby.

Listen to 𝘽𝙞𝙜 𝙏𝙞𝙢𝙚 on the 𝗖𝗼𝗻𝗻𝗼𝗹𝗹𝘆’𝘀 𝗖𝗼𝗿𝗻𝗲𝗿 Spotify playlist HERE!

Listen to 𝘽𝙞𝙜 𝙏𝙞𝙢𝙚 on the 𝗖𝗼𝗻𝗻𝗼𝗹𝗹𝘆’𝘀 𝗖𝗼𝗿𝗻𝗲𝗿 Apple Music playlist HERE!

Listen to 𝘽𝙞𝙜 𝙏𝙞𝙢𝙚 on YouTube HERE!

As far as I can tell, Ashstone is not on Instagram or TwiX (unusual way of hitting the big time)

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Welcome all to 𝗖𝗼𝗻𝗻𝗼𝗹𝗹𝘆’𝘀 𝗖𝗼𝗿𝗻𝗲𝗿, a series of weekly reviews by Charles Connolly – an artist in his own right. Here, Charles delves into the greatest brand new singles brought to you by the best unsigned artists on our electrifying and eclectic set of 𝙉𝙚𝙬 𝘼𝙧𝙩𝙞𝙨𝙩 𝙎𝙥𝙤𝙩𝙡𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩 playlists.

𝘾𝙤𝙡𝙤𝙪𝙧𝙨 𝘾𝙤𝙡𝙡𝙞𝙙𝙚 – 𝘾𝙤𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙣𝙖 𝙅𝙖𝙣𝙚

Charles adds one to another…

Lately, I’ve been thinking about collectives. How one thing plus another thing makes a completely new thing. It is so much more than multiples. It CAN be mere multiples of course; take the humble flageolet bean, for example. Add many more, and you simply end up with more beans. It’s nothing more than more. But so often the sum of its parts ends up as something else. A metamorphosis of sorts.

A tree is just a tree. A lovely tree, perhaps. An old and wise tree, but just a tree. When adding many more, you can’t see the trees for the forest. In that forest, a wandering man is lonely as ever. He comes across a wandering woman and they hit it off; a couple is born. As the Spice Girls neatly observed: when ‘2 Become 1’. But that couple is now just a couple. After much canoodling, a baby is born; turning that couple into a colourful family. The colour red is bold and brazen, if a little raw. It is also just red. But when red meets yellow – after much canoodling – a vibrant orange has taken the place of both primary colours. But an orange is – let’s be real – after all, just an orange. Toss a few more fruit into the mix and you end up with a fruit salad! The problem is – as Homer Simpson rightly once put it: “You don’t win friends with salad”. Just a salad. Stick a bit of meat with it, and suddenly you’re faced with a scrumptious meal! Apologies to all you vegetarians for that last thought. But I reiterate Homer’s thoughts… Now, now; why, it was only on Sunday that I had lunch with a vegan (or vee-GAN, as I like to say) – I cast no aspersions.

A brick is just a brick. It has very little purpose on its own. An ugly, modern paperweight, perhaps? If only we had some paper to weigh down… But let’s imagine (abandoning the paperweight idea) we manage get our hands on many bricks, then we stack them in a neat geometric pattern, with much goop in between each and every one. We haven’t just got lots of bricks, for they have unified into one. Instead we have a wall. But what good is a wall other than as a windbreaker or a shield from nosy neighbours…? Make four of them and stick a roof on it: you’ve just made a home. But one isolated house is simply isolating (or peaceful, depending on your preference or temperament). Build a row of terraced houses, and you’ve just made a street! But an isolated street is a road to nowhere… A small spaghetti of connecting streets thread together to form a whole town. A thread is little more than an irritation as you fail for the fifth time to poke it through the eye of a needle. That sixth time you get lucky. Eventually, many threads mesh together to form cloth. But cloth is only the beginning… When cloth is worked by a skilled tailor, a jacket is not only born but worn. But by completing the matching trousers, said tailor has turned a jacket into a suit. The card in that breast pocket is the ten of diamonds (quite the suit). What a pointless thing on its own. But when matched with the Jack, Queen, King and Ace of diamonds, you’ve got a Royal Flush! Sometimes it won’t go down after one royal flush – but then it does. When it repeatedly won’t go down, this makes for a happy plumber. But that’s quite enough of that shit.

Let’s talk music. This week we have yet another artist who has never before set foot in my Corner. She and I and the music: three sides collide to make a corner… Please welcome Corinna Jane with her brand new release, ‘Colours Collide’. Corinna (such a pretty name) is a tiny Australian. Neither of which you would believe after having heard her voice… While the song’s meaning might very well be something akin to what I wrote above, it might also be construed as sex. But so much can be construed as sex – Paul McCartney wrote ‘Why Don’t We Do It In The Road’ and, er, ‘Fixing a Hole’ – but I suspect ‘Colours Collide’ to be one of those “it means whatever you want it to mean” songs. Which I like. I do enjoy songs with lots of plausible meanings.

Corinna Jane’s influences apparently include Aretha Franklin and Janis Joplin… I know… These are two rather different voices… And I personally hear zero of either in Corinna’s voice or style of music. But hey-ho! I DO however hear various other vocal similarities. There are definite notes of Goldfrapp, Julie Hicklin, Kylie Minogue and Donna Summer. But also Summer Lee Carlson (what happened to her…?), Moloko (what happened to them…?), and Madonna (what ha- wait, my mistake). In style, this is electronic dance with a quite a touch of organic disco. But also in style, this is IN STYLE. It is truly stylish. Despite the many sophisticated secondary and tertiary colours, there is plenty of bold Technicolor blood red. Actually, it’s more like a seductive, glossy Marilyn lipstick. THAT’S the red. It kisses like you know it’s wrong but you can’t help but reciprocate. But she steps back as soon as you respond – with an “it could be you” smile. You may be happy (yellow), you may be sad (blue), but Corinna will leave you envious (green). Having said this, I somehow don’t think this song is about mixing paint colours.

You all know I’m a fan of “song” in terms of chords, melody, words and structure, but what pleases me equally is the coming together of all the parts. Corinna is evidently modest enough to admit not only her strengths but her weaknesses. She knows she’s a fabulous singer. She knows she’s a good writer. But she is aware that in order to make a great song, one needs more than this. She doesn’t depend on herself for everything. Aside from the stress and the pressure, she knows that there are people who can deal with certain sides better. Which is why she brought in co-writer Matthew Payne to get the bare bones of the song down, together. But with the kind of genre she has in mind, a certain kind of producer needs to be involved. Step this way, Adam Calaitzis. But then there’s sound… Corinna asked Sam Lowe (as mixing engineer) to glue things together in the best possible way – and he did so! Lastly, the record needs a final lacquer before it’s off to the presses – this was courtesy of mastering engineer, Joseph Carra. Without all these steps, the song as a whole would not have been as good, and I quite probably wouldn’t have reviewed it.

“But you haven’t actually reviewed it!”… Ahem. Good point. Firstly, Corinna is an extremely talented singer with a voice that suggests she was just born that way. Despite her slightness in stature, her voice is truly larger than life. The intro shows her pop sensibility, Madonna and Goldfrapp style with lush reverb, but the verse has more of a dry, kooky alternative vibe to it (think Moloko). Then as soon as the harmonies surround us, it is as though Summer Lee Carlson is in the room. I can say without hesitation that Corinna Jane has one of the best female voices in the current indie scene. I also ADORE her voice’s versatility, even within just one song. The urgency, breathiness, melodic range, dynamic range, allure, and control all meld together to make one heck of a performance. Writing-wise (the song), I wouldn’t change a thing. It has all the good bits of predictability (the pop edge) blended with loads of “I didn’t see THAT one coming”. Production is where things get really interesting. At first it really does seem to be an electronic dance track (only). The kick/hat duo with the synths give this impression. But the synths are not what we often hear on independent records. Because they sound like very expensive original hardware synths from the late 70s and early 80s. And then there’s the obvious exception of the compressed piano. Electronic tracks don’t usually have any truck with pianos or really ANY organic instruments (except maybe electric bass). Just those simple deep resonant piano stabs (not to mention the higher woody ones later on) are enough to bring this from the traditional electronic genre into a more alternative and altogether more modern era. Pair these with those full-fat synth stabs and it really does bring us back to Donna Summer-era disco (the only real disco era). What I find surprising about the whole piece is how modern it sounds. I think this is mainly down to the choice of blended instruments and sounds, and the mixing. Speaking of mixing (I include mastering here), the sound is just everything you want from a song. Separation, clarity, width, deep lows, airy highs, full mids, thump, thud, oomph and magic. Everything is glued together “like a record”, yet everything has its own space. The details in reverb and delay automation show the difference between an amateur mix and a pro mix. Just in case you were confused, this is of the pro variety.

Top marks, all of you!!

While having lunch with artist Emily Gray (the vee-GAN) on Sunday, she asked “What’s a smash burger?” – a valid query with a brief discussion ending in hilarity. I’m just pleased to say they didn’t have bangers and (s)mash, if only to prove that not everything has to be construed as sex. It wasn’t a long lunch – just a quick in and out.

Listen to 𝘾𝙤𝙡𝙤𝙪𝙧𝙨 𝘾𝙤𝙡𝙡𝙞𝙙𝙚 on the 𝗖𝗼𝗻𝗻𝗼𝗹𝗹𝘆’𝘀 𝗖𝗼𝗿𝗻𝗲𝗿 Spotify playlist HERE!

Listen to 𝘾𝙤𝙡𝙤𝙪𝙧𝙨 𝘾𝙤𝙡𝙡𝙞𝙙𝙚 on the 𝗖𝗼𝗻𝗻𝗼𝗹𝗹𝘆’𝘀 𝗖𝗼𝗿𝗻𝗲𝗿 Apple Music playlist HERE!

Listen to 𝘾𝙤𝙡𝙤𝙪𝙧𝙨 𝘾𝙤𝙡𝙡𝙞𝙙𝙚 on YouTube HERE!

Follow 𝘾𝙤𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙣𝙖 𝙅𝙖𝙣𝙚 on Instagram HERE!

Follow 𝘾𝙤𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙣𝙖 𝙅𝙖𝙣𝙚 on TwiX HERE!

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Welcome all to 𝗖𝗼𝗻𝗻𝗼𝗹𝗹𝘆’𝘀 𝗖𝗼𝗿𝗻𝗲𝗿, a series of weekly reviews by Charles Connolly – an artist in his own right. Here, Charles delves into the greatest brand new singles brought to you by the best unsigned artists on our electrifying and eclectic set of 𝙉𝙚𝙬 𝘼𝙧𝙩𝙞𝙨𝙩 𝙎𝙥𝙤𝙩𝙡𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩 playlists.

𝙀𝙫𝙖𝙥𝙤𝙧𝙖𝙩𝙚 – 𝘽𝙚𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙘𝙚 𝙈𝙖𝙧𝙨𝙖𝙡𝙖

Charles brings the scars to the surface…

“It’s all in the past”. Such a comforting line we have frequently told ourselves and have been told by others. When a war is declared over, we all breathe a sigh of relief. It’s all in the past, we say, to console ourselves. The undetonated bombs are safely tucked away, to snooze until the next war (for there will indeed be a next war). The relentless carnage has finally relented, the nerves subside and the exhaustion overtakes. Because for once there is time for exhaustion. It is a good kind of exhaustion, though. A ceaselessness shattered by peace. The heartbeat slows to what one can only assume to be a normal one, and one lies down, not thinking about the future. The future is irrelevant right now. The present silence is all that matters. The thing is, we have a memory, and scars don’t always heal. The other overlooked flaw in this casual “It’s all in the past” utterance, is that the past often – nay – usually – nay – almost always affects the present and the future. The scars of war are far more than physical. The scars of anyone’s past are usually cemented in the mind. And it doesn’t just have to be something so publicly epic as war…

We’ve all been through trauma of one kind of another. The good times would never be so good without a certain modicum of the bad. The contrast in life is what makes it feel like life as opposed to an automatic factory of business. The problem with these past traumas is that they very often linger like a familiar odour that one just can’t quite place. If not dealt with in a proper, conscious manner, these lingerings can fester, bringing the past right into the present and most probably the future. Which ain’t nice. While said contrast makes a good thing better, we’d all (I’m sure) rather the bad to bugger off into the past for good. This could be an unresolved childhood trauma, a (lack of) money trauma, a past flood trauma, a longstanding phobia, or even just a general anxiety brought on by memories of the past. Put bluntly, one is lying to oneself when one says “it’s all fine”. We are what we were. And if we don’t like what we were, then the past needs to be addressed, laid to rest, and not hurled into an unlocked chest.

That empty comfort of “It’s all in the past” can often be as shallow as “It’s only water”. When the great tsunami of 2004 struck like a wet atomic bomb, did anyone dare to utter “It’s only water”…? I think not. So why do we so casually relegate things to the past when we all know that the past decides the present and the future? Our GOOD memories of the past have so much to do with our present, and we certainly don’t classify THOSE as “old and therefore irrelevant”. There is relevance to everything in the past. That’s why the past so often comes back to haunt. We mustn’t shove it deep down inside, but we mustn’t consciously forget it either. Instead it is important to keep it within our thoughts and memories, but not let it drag us down. Again I turn to war… We mourn the dead, lest we forget. But we mustn’t break down in tears at the memory. To quote the founder of the feet, we must “RISE UP!!”, but we mustn’t fight. THEY fought, and look where it got THEM. Which is one of the most important things about the past. To learn from it. We all make mistakes. We will continue to make mistakes. But if we learn from our past, those fresh mistakes will hopefully be different ones. Only once acknowledged, ingested, mulled over and learnt from, can these past traumas even begin to evaporate.

Which brings us ever so neatly into the world of Bernice Marsala. And what a world it IS! She’s the Nashville gal who just keeps on winning awards! The Josie Music Awards? She’s won them. The International Singer Songwriter Awards? She’s won them. The Infinity Music & Film Awards? She’s won them. The World Songwriting Awards? She’s… Yep, she’s won them too. While many artists either lose their ability to sustain a high standard in their field, or simply lose the motivation or the energy to keep trying, Bernice just keeps on pushing, and frankly just keeps on getting better and better. Her most recent claim to achievement is having been accepted as a Recording Academy Voting Member! For those who can’t quite place “Recording Academy” (though it will undoubtedly ring a bell), this is the posh term for what we habitually and affectionately call the Grammys. Ah, NOW you know! We so often talk about “claim to fame”, but surely a claim to achievement is so much more meaningful, no? Okay, it doesn’t rhyme, but fame should not be the absolute goal to end all goals. It should be money… Just kidding.

Having entirely ignored Bernice’s output for over a year, I can ignore no longer. Okay, Okay. I have not “ignored” her music in the last year, but it has not set foot in this here Corner for that period. I believe July 2025 was the last time she appeared here. I got some complaints about the same artists cropping up here, so I diversified. Actually, I got just one complaint and I have always been very careful to make sure the Corner retained a nice balance, so I never fully understood that one complaint. This same complaint also said that I very often review songs that I have produced and/or mixed – another thing that is simply not true. But either way, I like people to be happy, so I ended up actively shying away from reviewing songs I had had anything to do with. The thing is, this occasionally led to a bit of a problem. I am very fortunate in having some fabulously talented clients having written and recorded some very excellent songs. The problem was this: “Why should those with particularly good songs be automatically vetoed simply because either they appeared here a few months ago, or I had anything to do with their song’s making (or both)?” – To me, this seems pretty unfair. Nevertheless, I stuck to my conscious diversification, and will continue to do this (providing the diverse stays good). Occasionally, though, there comes a track that just cannot be ignored. Where it is so far and away the best song to be released within the week. Please clamp your lugholes around Bernice Marsala’s latest single, ‘Evaporate’.

Look, I can’t help it if I produce/mix for a living, and write reviews on the side (not for a living). Sometimes the twain shall meet. Yes, I produced and mixed the track. But I will not concentrate on this side of things here. It is there for you to hear. I want to touch more on the song, the vocals, the lyrics and the kalimba, for this is the crux of it all. Let’s start with the words. Bernice has spent much of her lyrics reckoning with the past. Not necessarily HER past, for she is an artist. An inventor of scenes and notions. Quite often I ask her where this or that song’s lyrics came from, expecting some story about her past, and more often than not she casually says she just came up with the idea, and that it’s not really anything to do with anything in her own life. Sometimes there is a similarity in context with a friend of hers, and sometimes it is just plucked from the ether. ‘Evaporate’ talks about the relationship between the past and the present, and how one is so often unable to “ditch” the past in order to have an unperturbed present. So true! So wise. She starts straight in with the line “You thought you stitched yourself up, but you walk around with open wounds”. It is perhaps her very best opening line, in being both arresting and relatable. “You’ve got your smile on, like it’s your refuge” – the second line connects your soul with her own. That personal heart of sadness. “Mustn’t grumble”, say the English, for fear of making a fuss. “Pretending won’t distract you from the pain, and avoiding it won’t make it go away”: it’s a third line that makes you sit back in your seat; not in nestled comfort but in dumbstruck awe of how she’s just got it so right. Your eyes are wide and your ears are tingling for more.

Vocally, Bernice is at her most confident yet. The sound is so open and effortless. This might perhaps be something to do with not having a little blob (baby) pushing up against her diaphragm (for she is now the proud owner of two blobs). But I think it is also simply to do with experience. With every song she learns. Not just what to do, but what she is capable of. The release preceding this was ‘Crazy One’ (an official collaboration avec moi). I asked her to sing one or two lines a specific way and she didn’t know if she could. It was something to do with a brief, fast run of notes (without slurring or pausing the notes) – not an easy technique. She was ready to let me down – that’s the spirit, girl! The thing is, EYE knew she could do it. First take…? Nailed it. Being a producer can be tricky, because it’s not all about making music on your own. It often involves asking (politely telling) the client to do something a certain way. I want to make the music the best it can be, but I also don’t want the client to come away resenting me. Hence tricky. But we two get on well, and there has never EVER been anything other than peachy roses between us. She eats the peaches, I smell the roses; job’s a good ‘un. I said I wouldn’t be talking about me… The thing is, I’m not. I’m talking about the producer’s role; because ultimately the artist and the finished song are the stars. It ain’t me, babe. Back to the voice. Bernice’s enunciation has always been “top hole”, but I feel like lately there is a certain natural crispness that is both clearer and smoother than ever before. Speaking of crispness, I was in a pub on Sunday and they were advertising Christmas bookings everywhere. In an August heatwave!! Sorry: crispness/Christmas. I digress.

Let’s get to the song itself. I’ll keep this bit brief for a reason. The song itself is purposely pretty simple in terms of chord changes. It needs to be. The focus of this song is the vocal, its lyrics and the general surrounding sound of it all (the production). I feel like if this song were to be any more complicated or “clever”, the focus might be softened or even blurred. And no one likes an astigmatism. Keeping the focus narrow in the lead while the production remains relatively wide, the song itself is the corrective lens achieving the ultimate goal – money (still kidding). If this song were to be sung with just piano accompaniment, it might seem almost like verse chorus verse chorus verse chorus. But due to the production and the many varying melodies sung throughout the lines, it’s a very unusual Intro, Verse 1A, Verse 1B, Chorus 1A, Verse 2A, Verse 2B, Chorus 2A, Bridge 1, Bridge 2, Chorus 3B, Outro. Hmmm… So maybe it’s not that simple after all. But it sounds and feels natural.

And finally, that kalimba. For those who don’t know what this is, you do. You will have seen one – maybe even played one – but you might not know what it is called. It’s a little wooden box that you hold in your palms, while your thumbs are free to pluck/flick various pitched metal tines. An African doohickey of sorts. This was the one thing Bernice sent me that I didn’t touch in the slightest. I knew not to. I just mixed it. I could clearly tell that this was to be the underlying motif of the whole piece. The drone. The crux. The ostinato. Call it what you will. This kalimba line is integral to everything. In fact, I believe this was the starting point from which the song was born. She also said not to touch it. Ahem. But I weren’t gunnoo, honest! This kalimba sums up everything about the song and even its cover font… It has its past roots, but is so utterly enriched in right now and beyond.

I do believe ‘Evaporate’ to be Bernice’s very best release to date. I could be wrong. You might prefer another. But either way, give it a listen, if only so you can decide for yourself.

It is no surprise that she just can’t help but win awards.

As to me and my past trauma, I’m English, therefore no such thing exists – he says, stuffing it deep, deep down. Nothing to see here!

Listen to 𝙀𝙫𝙖𝙥𝙤𝙧𝙖𝙩𝙚 on the 𝗖𝗼𝗻𝗻𝗼𝗹𝗹𝘆’𝘀 𝗖𝗼𝗿𝗻𝗲𝗿 Spotify playlist HERE!

Listen to 𝙀𝙫𝙖𝙥𝙤𝙧𝙖𝙩𝙚 on the 𝗖𝗼𝗻𝗻𝗼𝗹𝗹𝘆’𝘀 𝗖𝗼𝗿𝗻𝗲𝗿 Apple Music playlist HERE!

Listen to/watch 𝙀𝙫𝙖𝙥𝙤𝙧𝙖𝙩𝙚 on YouTube HERE!

Follow 𝘽𝙚𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙘𝙚 𝙈𝙖𝙧𝙨𝙖𝙡𝙖 on Instagram HERE!

Follow 𝘽𝙚𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙘𝙚 𝙈𝙖𝙧𝙨𝙖𝙡𝙖 on TwiX HERE!

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Welcome all to 𝗖𝗼𝗻𝗻𝗼𝗹𝗹𝘆’𝘀 𝗖𝗼𝗿𝗻𝗲𝗿, a series of weekly reviews by Charles Connolly – an artist in his own right. Here, Charles delves into the greatest brand new singles brought to you by the best unsigned artists on our electrifying and eclectic set of 𝙉𝙚𝙬 𝘼𝙧𝙩𝙞𝙨𝙩 𝙎𝙥𝙤𝙩𝙡𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩 playlists.

𝙋𝙚𝙣𝙖𝙣𝙘𝙚 – 𝙖𝙜𝙖𝙗𝙡𝙞𝙨

Charles has only himself to blame…

Music can be an outlet. It can join or define your mood. It can also be background nothing. Or, it can be unlistenable. More often than not, though, it can be an escape. A place to hide; to meditate away your thoughts. Your choice of choosing is usually – as it is for me – rather important. Get it wrong and you’ve severely let yourself down. Get it right and the previously fragmented pieces form a whole. If, for whatever reason you’re low, don’t be naive or gullible in thinking that a shot of “happy music” will disinfect your state of mind. Lowness comes and goes in all of us. It is something that we simply have to endure. I’m not suggesting you wallow, but, like illness, it cannot be shunned. You might be able to put it aside for a brief while, but soon enough it will bite you, and with clenched teeth it will cling with great tenacity. No, in lowness, “happy music’ is not the answer. You must ride the storm, waves and all. But Radiohead is usually not the answer, unless you enjoy punishing yourself – that comes later… The right choice of music can and will give strength, meaning and weight to the declining situation.

While the right music should lead you to meditate (in a manner), ridding yourself of extraneous distractions and pointless nothings, said meditation will leave you with the reduction you require. Only the thoughts that matter, with an increased clarity. Only then can you start to observe yourself. Analyse, even. From this point forth, you are your very own alienist (or “shrink”, if you prefer). With the clutter removed you can now clearly survey the carnage. Your initial query, “What have I done?”, is just that; an honest query. So honest as to almost be expecting an answer from above. But alas, there is no such reply. Then comes the first in a series of alternative emphases: “WHAT have I done?”… It demands a list in a childishly stubborn manner. The next almost lies in lost despair: “What HAVE I done?”… It suggests a genuine ignorance or unawareness of anything having ever been done. It usually comes complete with wide-open puppy-dog eyes. With still nothing close to any kind of response, our third alternative brings the eyelids right down with an aggressive stare akin to Lennon without glasses. It’s vicious: “What have EYE done??”… It’s a full-on boxer-defence stance, very much ready for a fight. While it suggests innocence, it heavily borders on blame. And finally we reach the dreaded final alternative: “What have I DONE??”… It’s a realisation that the ogre within is very much alive and kicking. You know what you’ve done, and it’s all your fault.

Is the automatic reaction to repent and fix things…? Is it, bugger! I mentioned earlier that punishment would come later… The time is now! You give yourself a damned good scolding. You thrash yourself into oblivion – if verbally. You mentally mutilate your being until the sweat pours and the energy is nothing more than weedy. And then you keel over, head propped up by the wall. It is not enough, but for now this movement has come to a close and an interval is much needed. Definitely time for a drink. You see…? THIS is what music can do for you. While it may not sound like much fun, to feel is to live. No one wants pain. No one should be forced to endure pain. But if the pain is already there (through any means), you might as well use it and work out what the hell it is. A friendly word of advice, though (why is it that whenever anyone says the word “friendly” in this context it is usually very much unfriendly and instead suggesting a threat?), try not to beat yourself up too much over whatever it is that you think you may or may not have done. Maybe just concentrate on making the whole saga an altogether finer one. “Then you can start, to make it better”. Failing that, you can just let it be. Either way, thanks, Macca!

From one penance to another, we slide into the realm of what got me here in the first place. Please welcome agablis (yes, all lowercase) to the Corner. My clever typing keyboard seems to have a tendency to try to turn this artist’s name into a dry, white wine, so apologies if at any point this artist segues into a Chablis. As to the name agablis, don’t ask me; I have absolutely no idea. But neither do I much care, because we’re not here for names; we’re here for music. And music is just what agablis does best. Despite the sound, this is not a band, group or beat combo. This is just one Oregonian named Sean Hurst. Being unsure as to whether this artist wishes to have his real name known (and what with me being slightly uncomfortable with an artist name being totalmente lowercase), I shall refer to him as “the dude” (a word so seldom writ by this scratchy nib of mine). I simply feel there is an air of cool to his music, and thus dudish. When I’m on the look out for new music, it all depends very much on how I’m feeling. I think by now you all know how close I am to “the song”, and usually it is chords and melody that I crave. However, sometimes I just need oomph. This could come in the form of gritty rock or even a sneaky, cheeky sort of electronic dance. These days, though, I do notice how much I need to feel. The music must suit, fit and elope with me to somewhere where people are not. My cosy affair with the one that knows me so well. ‘You and the Night and the Music’, replacing you with me. It might be classical, it might be jazz, it might even be weird and wonderful world music (I’ve lately been really into traditional Jewish music). But sometimes it needs to be something that is closer to me. Something I have caressed for just so many years. Guitars. And this is where the dude came in. He fixed me right up, like a doc.

The dude is a self-confessed lover of vinyl, which although pleasing me greatly, frankly doesn’t surprise me. No other listening method is so tactile, so organic and so in tune with its owner. Oh, and that’s another thing; with vinyl you actually OWN it. This would have sounded absurd 20 or 30 years ago, but these days we are basically renting our music collection. Not so much a collection but more like a cluttered drawer full of broken bits that may or may not come in useful one day. A far cry from one’s prized record collection built over the course of decades, relinquishing you of mucho pennies in the process. I have always adored physical vinyl records, but could never continue to keep a proper collection going, simply because it’s a very expensive habit now. The other reason is that I mainly listen to music on the go. And it always seemed a little pretentious to bring a battery-operated turntable on the Tube or the bus. Not to mention awkward. Not to mention embarrassing and absolutely absurd (if a little hilarious). And so I stick with streaming for now. The dude, on the other hand, simply HAD to be a vinyl fan, due to the very music he makes. It’s shoegazer stuff. The perfect thing for my own self-loathing. But potentially, the perfect thing to make me wonder if it is myself I am loathing, or in fact if there is anything in the world actually worth loathing at all! Of COURSE the dude loves vinyl. He makes music to dwell to!

If you’d like a quick point of reference, maybe have a listen to Mal Fantôme and Mercury Teardrop. There, you will get a little more than halfway. But every journey is different, and every journey deserves attentive attention. Immediately the space is wide and cavernous, like early Verve or early Suede. It’s deep and atmospheric, but from 0:11 to 0:27 the bass is surprisingly dry and potent, which I have come to expect from Chablis. It picks rhythmically in time with itself while the ambience hangs like a polluted fog. That is, until 0:27, where the depth of its de-tuned drone really comes into colour. I say de-tuned not in terms of dissonance, but in the way that all guitars and basses are de-tuned by one whole step, where E becomes D. I haven’t actually checked this, but it certainly gives the sound of that “drop-D” tone. At this point, guitars are creating a wall of misty soldiers, drums are kicking like they’re stoned but still on full form, and the bass is, frankly, swinging. All the while it seems as though there are some stunning synths loud in the background, but I suspect these are all guitars. The dude is certainly an expert at sound design. So far, the piece has been entirely instrumental, which, although a heavy dream of a thing, can get a bit “meh” after a while. So it’s just as well the dude opts for 0:48 as the correct time to bring in the most sensuous voices you never knew you needed. I chose that turn of phrase because the whole piece feels like a work of art in the form of hypnotism. The music is there to lull you into whatever mood the creator feels is right (heavy, yet clear and receptive) – the swing of the watch – and then you are in full eager form to listen to what the hypnotist wants you to listen to. From the heaviness of the music (true opium in sound), come the airy heavens of these voices. You NEED this. Now, these voices are undoubtedly female… And yet, I don’t believe they are. I can’t say for sure, but having realised the extent of the dude’s talents in terms of sound design, I wouldn’t put it past him to have sang these lines himself, then manipulated them in such a way that they sound female. Either that or he just has a girly voice. Or it’s someone else singing. But again, I do not care. I care about art, which is what I am listening to. Pure art.

At 2:13, the song does just what I had hoped, but really not what I had expected. Its soldiers disperse in all angles (many out of view), and sparse electronic drums replace the previously thwacked skins. But at 2:38 the skins are back but at double tempo – now, I REALLY didn’t see THAT one coming! It brings a more pop sensibility (perhaps sensible in this present climate of vinyl unlovers). And we’re only halfway through the song! 3:43 then orders the soldiers to stand at ease, allowing for the voices to come to the fore. Nah, those voices have GOT to be female. I’ll probably find out eventually from the dude himself. The rest of the song remains in double tempo once the soldiers have resumed their posts. Remember, this is vibe music; and boy, does it vibe!

Blur once coined the line “He’s a well-wisher and he wishes you well”. The dude’s a dwell-wisher and he wishes you dwell. He got his wish. I’ve got the bruises to prove it!

Finally. Now I can glug my well-earned glass of chilled agablis.

Listen to 𝙋𝙚𝙣𝙖𝙣𝙘𝙚 on the Connolly’s Corner Spotify playlist HERE!

Listen to 𝙋𝙚𝙣𝙖𝙣𝙘𝙚 on the Connolly’s Corner Apple Music playlist HERE!

Listen to 𝙋𝙚𝙣𝙖𝙣𝙘𝙚 on YouTube HERE!

Follow 𝙖𝙜𝙖𝙗𝙡𝙞𝙨 on Instagram HERE!

Follow 𝙖𝙜𝙖𝙗𝙡𝙞𝙨 on TwiX HERE!

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Welcome all to 𝗖𝗼𝗻𝗻𝗼𝗹𝗹𝘆’𝘀 𝗖𝗼𝗿𝗻𝗲𝗿, a series of weekly reviews by Charles Connolly – an artist in his own right. Here, Charles delves into the greatest brand new singles brought to you by the best unsigned artists on our electrifying and eclectic set of 𝙉𝙚𝙬 𝘼𝙧𝙩𝙞𝙨𝙩 𝙎𝙥𝙤𝙩𝙡𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩 playlists.

𝙔𝙤𝙪 𝙒𝙧𝙤𝙩𝙚 𝙖 𝙎𝙤𝙣𝙜 – 𝙐𝙣𝙤𝙗𝙡𝙞𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙖𝙩𝙚𝙙

Charles oils those cogs…

Feeling a bit fat lately? Breathing a little heavier than usual? Don’t worry, this is quite normal these days. But it didn’t used to be. Take a look at old photos of anyone under the age of 50 or 60, and they were probably pretty slim. This was the old norm. They ate fresh food and had a balanced diet. Sweet treats were a rare treat – hence the name. In order to buy said fresh food, one had to wander up (or down) the road to the shops (yes, plural) and buy it. It would then be transported via one’s arms and legs (also plural). Arms for to carry; legs for to schlep. These days, food is rather less nutritious, and there are far too many unhealthy options to guide your eyes into temptation. The double schlep is usually achieved pretty much limbless. Vroom there; vroom back. And like a deadweight we wind the sofa with a central blow once back in the homestead; legs outstretched and arms a-flailin’. And yes, you pant with much perspiration. Or perhaps you don’t like the idea of driving all the way there and all the way back, while sweating like a jogger from having moved several inches… There’s always Uber Eats! Eats by apps (these gluttonous plurals). Okay, so at least we all have the fittest thumbs these days… But is it any wonder that we’re perhaps less physically fit than we used to be? For the most part, I call it stubborn laziness. The good news is, people seem to be becoming aware of their physical slump, and so are starting to do something about it.

The bad news is, it seems people are mostly ONLY aware of the physical side. Oh, and good old mental (un)health (stress, anxiety, depression etc.). But there is more to our noggin than what we call “mental health”… Have you noticed lately that your brain is on autopilot? That for the majority of the time it is spent twiddling its neurones, wondering whether it will be needed at any time soon? Are we perhaps getting just a tad too lazy…? Do you remember when you were young (wait, I haven’t finished), being in awe of older people’s knowledge, views and wisdom? I certainly do. These older people weren’t just full of facts, but they seemed so quick-witted. There were layers to their knowledge, and they could respond with witty profundity. But what do WE do these days? We sit in stumped silence, hunched over a small Google machine; we get “the answer” then discard said information within seconds, with the full knowledge (oh, the irony) that it can always be accessed via said little device at a later date. Simply put, our brains have largely become superfluous. I believe this all began with the pocket calculator in the ‘70s. Maths (yes, we pluralise it in England) was suddenly seen by the young as a pointless subject; a needless and laborious waste of time. And to some extent, I see what they meant. But I wouldn’t be comfortable if I couldn’t do the simplest sum without the use of a machine. I would feel a little pointless. And so the mental (un)health aspect starts to creep in. There is such a direct link between the brain and the mind (hear me out, I know most of you think of them as the same thing), that one will very much affect the other. The brain is the internal machine that does the work, and it is required in order to feed the mind with much needed nutrition (instant vibes). Simply put, using one’s brain will make you feel good.

Alongside laze-inducing machines telling us “the answer”, comes another problem. A problem that has been going on long before technology started helping us on our “merry” way. We are so absurdly susceptible to suggestion. Although this has been a thing for (probably) millennia, I have noticed the soaring rise of “wait to hear what everyone else says before blurting out my own identical philosophy”. This needn’t be something so huge as your opinion on world politics, but even something so trivial as your thoughts on a certain wine. If you’ve read the “tasting notes” on the back of the bottle, chances are you will have identical conclusions as to it being full-bodied, containing mild tannins (regardless of not quite knowing what a tannin is) and finishing with notes of cherry and chocolate. We are very much creatures of suggestion (to the advertising industry’s glee). What might be a better “game”, is to taste first, then read after; then you can see if you agree. You’ll feel better, I promise you! But that could be the effect of the wine (hic!). In the words of The Beatles, ‘Think For Yourself’. Self-achievement is one of the biggest mental health boosters. In relying on machines and other people’s minds, there is little to no satisfaction. Which could explain that while I was making that ‘Hands Up!’ album 18 trillion years ago, I was on a high; and while not really making anything of my own right now, I am on a bit of a slump. Having said that, do you know how EYE exercise my brain? By observing and pondering, and by writing these weekly articles. The better the writing, the better I feel.

But what does any of this have to do with ‘You Wrote a Song’ by Unobliterated?? I’ll get to that in a bit. For now, allow me to welcome Gary Taylor to my Corner, for he is the entirety of Unobliterated. Before we delve into the song’s meaning, let’s cover some other stuff first. So… Who is Gary Taylor? He’s a full-frontal nudist. Ahem. What I mean to say is, he is bold and brave, makes sure you sit up and take note, and often has the guts to say what others would only dare to think. His clothes are in place, rest assured. Although living in Portugal with his family, he made sure to hold on to his English roots by way of a dry, sarcastic (sometimes even scathing) sense of humour – I’m sure you aren’t surprised to hear that this sits well with me, while it might give some others a funny turn. It’s an English quirk, just like other nations having their own quirks. And what has Unobliterated been up to lately? He wrote a song. A song called ‘You Wrote a Song’. Now we get to the song’s meaning? No, no; not yet…

Musically, Unobliterated is a master of disguised clever chords and chord changes. With most of his music you might find yourself rocking away (in a nodding fashion), completely oblivious to anything particularly brilliant going on. But believe me, this subtle brilliance is the reason you haven’t got bored and skipped. It isn’t jazzy; it doesn’t ever feel awkward; it’s what I have always attempted to do in my own music. To sound simple, while actually being rather more. The song starts straight in with oomph and dissonance. A welcome dissonance. It’s creepy, but it suggests something’s coming, thus holding your attention. The almost indecipherable lyrics are pivoting between dissonance and “home turf”. Interestingly, those lyrics that are difficult to pick up are exactly what make you pay closer attention. This isn’t a mixing error, but the genuine intention. Robotic confusion, if you will. Then comes the setup of all setups – a two-bar drum fill – as we sink into a “more pleasurable” verse… But it isn’t a verse. It’s a full chorus, followed by a verse. Which also sounds a bit chorus-like. The whole piece has such an unusual structure, which is – ugh – music to my ears! Remind me never to use that phrase when reviewing music. In hindsight, I think Gary – sorry – Unobliterated, has done something unique here, in giving the verse the words of a chorus. Because things seem to actually get more interesting in the other verse. The first verse that follows the chorus – see what I mean? He’s a crazy mixed up kid who probably knows exactly what he’s doing. I love it when artists are being arty rather than reading the manual d’art. Experimentation and newness!!

And after all this excitement, do we get more of the same…? Hah!! I don’t THINK so. This is Unobliterated: king of the bridge! Now, most bridges are how long; 10 seconds? 15 seconds? How long’s his? Try 50 seconds!!! And it’s a three-part bridge too! The first part is what I have come to expect from Unobliterated. It’s smooth, cool, and takes us down another road. But in part two, that road comes to a bridge (no pun intended), leading us to a new land! We have width, reverbs, delays, and ultimately an ethereal, ambient electronic paradise. I almost expect a deep trance-like kick to take over, but just as you think it might go full electronica, he makes a handbrake turn and careers off into the more familiar Unobliterated sunset for a brief part three. Gary Taylor remains the king of the bridge. There are just SO many moments in this song where I smile and tingle with “ohh, that chord” or “ahh, that sound”, that I won’t bother to list them. The final 17 seconds show off the most beautiful voice we never knew he had. The tasting notes suggest a finish of Frank Joshua with no hint of tannins (whatever they are).

Okay, okay. But the song’s meaning…? Let’s ponder on this a bit. I mean, it’s a good question. What IS this song about? But then do you REALLY want me to say my thoughts? How’s about I don’t say what I think it’s about… What do YOU think it’s about? Let me and Gary know in the comments. But if you come to this article a little later than immediately after publication, please don’t rely on other people’s comments for “the answer”. Just listen to the song, listen to the lyrics (the lyrics are in the description of the YouTube video – linked below – should you wish to read them), use your own brain and make up your own mind. Life is better this way. We simply NEED to be more independently minded and not rely on others’ thoughts and views. Be bothered, and write your own mini review in the comments if you wish, but focus on the meaning behind the song. Don’t worry, it doesn’t have to be long by any means (and you don’t have to do it at all!). And also, don’t worry, I won’t be doing this every week. I heard that sigh of relief. Lazybrains.

Remember, don’t look at what others have said. I may not mind you guzzling, courtesy of Uber Eats (still plural), but I might have something to say about Uber Cheats (also plural).

Listen to 𝙔𝙤𝙪 𝙒𝙧𝙤𝙩𝙚 𝙖 𝙎𝙤𝙣𝙜 on the 𝗖𝗼𝗻𝗻𝗼𝗹𝗹𝘆’𝘀 𝗖𝗼𝗿𝗻𝗲𝗿 Spotify playlist HERE!

Listen to 𝙔𝙤𝙪 𝙒𝙧𝙤𝙩𝙚 𝙖 𝙎𝙤𝙣𝙜 on the 𝗖𝗼𝗻𝗻𝗼𝗹𝗹𝘆’𝘀 𝗖𝗼𝗿𝗻𝗲𝗿 Apple Music playlist HERE!

Listen to/watch 𝙔𝙤𝙪 𝙒𝙧𝙤𝙩𝙚 𝙖 𝙎𝙤𝙣𝙜 on YouTube HERE! (lyrics in description here too)

Follow 𝙐𝙣𝙤𝙗𝙡𝙞𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙖𝙩𝙚𝙙 on Instagram HERE!

Follow 𝙐𝙣𝙤𝙗𝙡𝙞𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙖𝙩𝙚𝙙 on TwiX HERE!

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